


When You Know

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Agent Zayn Malik, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, American Harry Styles, American Louis Tomlinson, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassin Louis Tomlinson, Background Character Death, Bartender Liam Payne, Blood and Injury, Chef Harry Styles, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Niall, Epilogue POV Harry, Guns, Loneliness, M/M, Organized Crime, POV Louis Tomlinson, Police, Revenge, Smut, Spies & Secret Agents, Strangers to Lovers, Violence, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Years of living in the shadows has taken its toll on Louis Tomlinson. When he’s offered a chance to leave behind his life as a hired assassin, he intends to take it.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 117
Kudos: 540





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theendofjune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theendofjune/gifts).



> [Laura](https://twitter.com/BestLarrieFics?s=20), you are a bright light in this fandom and so supportive of all our writers. I don't generally take prompts from people, but I was happy to write you an assassin Louis/sweetheart Harry fic! It's definitely not like anything else I've ever written before, but I always like a challenge. I only wish I could have had it done by your birthday. <3
> 
> Thank you to my amazing cheerleaders and betas [taggiecb](https://taggiecb.tumblr.com/) and [Nic](https://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/) for all the help and support! Thanks for believing I could write this! <3 <3

It took six weeks.

Six months since his mother’s murder. Six weeks from the time he stepped foot in Anchorage to hunt down the man who’d taken everything from him. 

Louis pointed the gun at Dan’s head. “I guess you never expected to see anyone from Greenwood ever again.”

Dan’s face paled. “You look like Jay.”

“Don’t say my mother’s name,” Louis spat back at him.

He thought when he found Dan, he’d have more to say to him. That he would want to tell him about the burning damnation that awaited him in hell, but in the end, he found he had nothing to say. 

Instead, he watched whatever light was left in Dan’s eyes die before he even pressed the trigger. This was the end of the line, and he knew it. He didn’t beg Louis for mercy. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had. There wasn’t any mercy left inside him. 

The bullets passed through Dan’s head in quick succession, leaving him with only a sense of calm, maybe even righteousness. He stood over the body of his mother’s murderer and stayed only long enough to be certain of his death before walking back out into the cold morning light.

As he walked back into the small lobby of the motel he’d been staying at, he froze in his tracks.

Niall Horan grinned at him, leaning on the desk counter. “Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hello, Detective Horan.”

“I suppose you’re surprised to see me. Guess you figured it would take us a while to put the pieces together. Lucky then that I had the idea to just follow you instead of looking for Dan.”

Louis stiffened, but didn’t speak.

“I suppose I’m too late to arrest him. Can’t imagine you left him alive after all the trouble you’ve gone to to find him.” Niall looks him over, his eyes narrowing. “Is it raining outside?”

“No.”

“Why’s your hair wet?”

“I was at the gym. Took a shower.”

Niall shook his head and let out a laugh. “You always were the clever one, weren’t you? I don’t suppose there’s any trace of gun powder residue or blood spatter anywhere on you, is there?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Detective.”

Niall continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “I bet the clothing in your gym bag looks like what you were wearing out of here this morning. And I’m never gonna find that gun, am I? You know, I’m almost excited now to go look at the scene you’ve left us. All the DA will be left with is circumstantial evidence, I suppose. Tough to get a grand jury to indict with no physical evidence. Got plenty of motive though. So what do you think your chances are, Louis?”

It’s clear he’d underestimated Niall. Still, it will take some time to indict him. Plenty of time to disappear before that happened.

Niall took a moment to just stare at him. “You and I both know Dan belonged in the ground, but there’s a price to be paid for revenge. I’m thinking I have a compromise of sorts for you though. I’ve just accepted a new job about as far away from here and Greenwood as you can get. And as it turns out, I need someone just like you to help me with it.”

“I’m not a cop.”

“No, you’re not. Believe me, it’ll be better that way.” Niall’s grin is back. “It’s your lucky day, Louis Austin. You’ve just gotten away with murder.”

Luck’s never crossed his path. He knows better than to rely on luck. 


	2. Chapter 2

Louis has trouble sleeping.

The white sheets twist around his limbs in some kind of metaphorical bindings as he turns back and forth in the bed that’s been shoved into the corner of his bedroom. The adrenaline of the attack earlier in the day is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. And yet, he still can not fucking sleep. 

There had been panic on the man’s face. He’d only had a fleeting look before the man opened fire, but it had been there. The look of someone backed into a corner. He hadn’t wanted to fire back. But what choice did he have? 

This is what he tells himself every time this happens.

He rubs a hand across his unshaven face that bristles against his fingers and sits up with a groan. His phone says it’s four am, and he decides that’s as decent a time as any to give up on sleeping. His bare feet squeak across the wood floors of his bedroom as he crosses the room and out into the hallway towards the bathroom to take a piss.

The face that stares back at him in the mirror over the sink is an all too familiar sight. Purpling circles beneath his eyes, a few more creases on his face, his hair standing on end. He stops looking.

He forgoes a shower for now and fills an old beat up stainless steel kettle with water to boil while he pops a few pieces of bread into the toaster. Yawning as he waits for his tea and toast, he stretches his arms, his back cracking. The small window in his kitchen provides no light just yet, so it’s too early to see if the day will dawn bright and cold or gloomy and grey. He’s not sure he cares either way. 

His life has been devoid of light for some time now. Years even. 

It’s not easy being Louis Tomlinson, but he barely remembers a time before he was Louis Tomlinson. That life only comes back to him in flashes of memories that grow more and more faded with time. Austin, he reminds himself, though he never says the name out loud. 

He’s a dangerous man to anyone looking to hire a would-be assassin. So far, his contacts in high places have kept him from being unmasked, but he knows their only real protection comes in the form of looking the other way while he does their dirty work. 

And so he lives in the shadows, trying his best to make up for what he’s done. He wonders if he’ll ever be done with the task.

There are no scheduled days off in Louis’ line of work. 

He lifts up the floorboards in the hall closet to open the safe hidden beneath. Bypassing the knives and larger guns, he grabs out a smaller piece and holster before making his way back into his bedroom, grabbing a small stack of cash from the black duffel bag hidden in the false wall of the closet. A few hundreds go in his wallet and the rest into inside pockets of his black leather coat that nicely conceals his holster. 

Quickly pulling up a gun range address on his laptop, he takes a quick glance to memorize where he’s heading. The only phone he takes with him is a burner that he tucks into his pocket. 

He hopes it doesn’t go off today. 

The range is one he hasn’t been to in months, rotating where he takes target practice just seems like a good idea at this point. His aim being what it is sometimes makes people take notice, but he’s got to keep in practice. 

The burner goes off not long after he begins and a deep sigh falls from his lips. Probably no day off then. He checks the number and recognizes it as one of the police department phone extensions. Betting on the call not being an emergency, he finishes his target practice before stepping out into the crunch of icy, grey slush beneath his feet. 

His breath curls in white wisps as he calls back and answers the clipped “Horan” he hears on the line. “Niall. Nice day, yeah?”

The grunt he receives as a response just makes him smile a bit. “It’s fucking February, Tommo. It’s absolute shit weather outside.”

“February?” he glances around as though a calendar will appear in front of him. A siren a few blocks away gradually fades into the background. 

“Yeah, first of February. You don’t even know what month it is anymore?”

“They’re starting to run together. Anyway, I’m guessing you didn’t call to chat about the weather.”

Niall snorts. “Sixteen hundred hours. McClellan’s on 4th. Neighborhood bar, a half floor below street level.”

“Got it.” 

“Steve says the guy’s tall, fairly lanky. In his forties. Curly hair, brown. Longer hair than average. He’ll be wearing a tan suede jacket. His name’s Harold, but he’s pretending it’s Vincent. So he’ll most likely introduce himself as Vincent or Vince if he identifies himself at all.”

“Deal?”

“Ten thousand in cash. Says his business partner is cheating him out of profits, but we’re pretty sure he’s just looking to be able to buy out the guy’s half on the cheap from his family after he’s gone.”

“Alley out back?”

“Yep.”

“Aces.”

“Tommo?”

“Yeah?”

There’s a pause. “Sorry to send you another one so soon. This should be an easy one though.”

Louis stares at the warehouse next to the gun range, white paint peeling to reveal flecks of the brick beneath. “Not like you can help when people feel like hiring me to kill someone. I assume you want this one alive?”

“If possible,” Niall replies. “If not possible, well—”

“Right. So he’s not that important.”

“One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve spoken to one of my contacts at the federal level for you, and I think they’re going to make you some kind of…offer.”

“What kind of offer?”

“I don’t know, Tommo, but Malik won’t screw you over. That I can tell you. You can trust him.”

Louis’ heard that line before. “I don’t trust anyone, but okay.”

With target practice done, he begins the drive back to his apartment. He only goes in long enough to return his gun and holster to their proper places and to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

Now that he knows he doesn’t have anywhere to be until four pm, he can continue on with his day somewhat. He grabs a gym bag and water bottle and heads out to his mixed martial arts studio. 

“Tommo,” Miguel says with a nod as he walks into the studio. They know him here, one of the few luxuries of acquaintanceship that he allows for himself. He needs regular training sessions, so it’s practical as well. One of the trainers, Andrew, waves him over to get started.

He doesn’t take it easy on him. 

Louis appreciates it. He needs to be fit and his reaction times must be sharp. This kind of workout sometimes feels like a punishment of sorts, and maybe it is. As he deflects a hit to his stomach, his muscles tighten just before he begins the counterattack that has Andrew panting and on the floor.

“Wish you’d sign up for a tournament, bro.” Miguel stands at the side of the mat, shaking his head in disappointment. “Could put us on the map.”

“Sorry. Not looking for a trophy.” He smiles, but the words sink in further than he’d like after he says it. A trophy. No, he certainly doesn’t want accolades about what he can do. That’s not what began all this, and it won’t be why he keeps going until something or someone stops him.

The sweat still lingering in the nape of his neck freezes as he steps back out into the cold to drive back to his apartment. He tries not to think much about what may or may not happen later today. He won’t know until he’s in the moment, so there’s no use going over it in his mind. Every time is different. 

He takes a long shower and then shaves if for no other reason than to pass time. When he knows he’s got an _appointment_ , it’s not possible for him to relax. He really could have used a day off.

Food sits heavy in his stomach, but he eats to sustain his energy. An act of survival, not pleasure.

The minutes tick by until it’s time to focus. Clothes aren’t difficult to pick out as nearly everything he owns is nondescript, chosen to blend in, so he dresses for functionality before retrieving his weapons, hiding them expertly on himself. 

He drives downtown.

The bar’s just where Niall had said it would be, half a story beneath the ground, in a basement with windows just peeking up over the sidewalk. As he walks down the steps to the entrance, he notes it as not a great escape route. 

McClellan’s has the feel of an old Irish pub with the exception of a large mural along the far wall. It catches his eyes before they land on the head of brown curls slumped at the bar. The sight of his target already at the bar jolts him. 

The man’s thirty minutes early. Most of his appointments are either on time or a bit late if they’re nervous. Almost no one arrives early to meet a hired killer. 

As he walks up to sit one stool away from “Vincent”, he throws back a shot of something clear to the bemusement of the bartender. 

The bartender shakes his head, but his look remains sympathetic. “Go easy after this, will you, Harry?”

 _Harry_. Why the hell did this guy pick a place where people know his real name is Harold? Louis presses record on the miniscule recording device sewn into his coat. Then, he orders a beer to pretend to drink and glances over at him, and the man looks back. 

“Wow, you’re pretty.”

To say Louis is taken aback would be an understatement. Never has any of his targets led the conversation with this kind of talk. It’s not that Louis is completely oblivious to the way that he looks. Before all this started, years ago, he’d cared more about that kind of attention. Now, it just gets in the way more than anything; makes him more conspicuous. He’d thought the toned down clothing and unstyled hair helped, but maybe not as much as he’d thought.

“Your eyes are amazing. Not sure I’ve ever seen eyes that blue before.” Harold waves a hand around in his direction. “The rest of you is—very nice, too.”

“Thank you.” Honestly, he doesn’t know what else to say. That he mentioned his eyes causes him to look into the clear green ones that are eyeing him.

“No, thank _you_ , pretty man. See—” Harold leans in, whispering more loudly than most people are talking and Louis smells the liquor on his breath. “I’m glad to see there are other pretty men in the world. Ones that probably don’t cheat on their boyfriends on their birthdays. You wouldn’t, would you?”

“What?”

“Cheat on me on my birthday!”

“Oh. No. I—I wouldn’t.” He’s been hired to take care of unfaithful lovers before, but this is supposed to be about business partnership gone wrong. 

“It’s my birthday today.”

“Oh. Um—happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Thought I was coming home early for some birthday sex, but my boyfriend started without me and with someone else.” This statement comes accompanied by a harsh laugh from his pretty pink lips. 

Louis blinks a few times. He can’t be thinking about his target’s lips. There are more things wrong here though. Harold is wearing a tan suede coat with a white fleecy collar, but Niall had called it a jacket not a coat. And the man he’s meeting is in his forties and there’s no way this guy’s even out of his twenties. 

“Anyway, enough about my troubles,” Harold sighs. “What’s a pretty guy like you doing here in the middle of the afternoon?”

“It’s four o’clock,” he answers automatically.

“It is?” Harold looks a bit surprised and then looks at the bartender. “I guess I’ve been here for a while, huh, Liam?”

The bartender’s eyebrow lifts and nods at the unasked question.

“Well, my name’s Harry.” Harold holds out a hand, an odd assortment of rings on nearly every finger. 

Louis shakes it. “Louis.”

“Nice to meet you, Louis. Sorry you have to see me at my worst today. But I swear I’m not usually like this. I don’t even really drink.”

Liam smiles. “It’s true. He usually orders an iced tea and lemonade and just tells me about his day.”

Either this is the most elaborate set up of all time, or this isn’t the right guy. Even if he does partially match the description and has the same name. Well, a very similar one anyway. Not that it matters when the guy’s supposed to be going by the name Vincent.

Louis takes a quick, surreptitious look around the bar and spots a man sliding into a booth. Definitely in his forties, a tan suede jacket, wavy brown hair that’s been combed to one side to try and hide his thinning hair. 

He’s slightly thrown by this odd occurrence, but he sets it aside and stands up. Harry looks disappointed to see him go, but he doesn’t have time to worry about cute guys who are drowning their sorrows on their birthday over a shitty ex-boyfriend.

He slides into the booth and turns back into who he’s supposed to be. 

“Vincent?” Best to lead with making sure it’s the right guy this time.

“What—er—I mean, yes. Yes. I’m Vincent.”

“Got the money?”

“Yes. I—” He starts pulling something out of his pocket.

“Not here.” What an idiot. “I’ll pay my tab and meet you in the alley.”

“The alley?”

“You think it’s a better idea to do it in front of all these witnesses?”

He doesn’t wait for a response. If this Harold guy can just think better of this whole thing, so much the better. He walks back to the bar and flips a few bills next to his full bottle of beer. 

Harry looks up at him with a small, hopeful smile, and Louis suddenly realizes that Harry’s not that drunk, just miserable. It tugs at him in a way nothing has for a very long time. 

It’s unnerving. And he doesn’t have room to be unnerved right now. He turns without looking at Harry again and heads out the back door leading into the alley. 

The tall buildings surrounding them block out the faint light of an overcast sky, and it’s so cold that the small bit of light picks up on the white of his target’s breath. The man’s got his hand in the inside breast pocket of his coat, presumably where the money is hidden, but it puts Louis on his guard. His fingers itch, ready to grab his weapon if needed. 

“The money?”

“Yeah, yeah, I—I got it right here. Now, you’re going to, you know, take care of this problem for me then?”

“If by problem you mean kill your business partner, then yes.”

The man chuckles dryly. “Well. Yes.”

“Great. We have a deal then.” 

He shakes his hand, taking the money with the other and tucking it away.

Louis’ quite pleased with how loudly the man said it. Should all be recorded nicely then. He raises an eyebrow, a dismissal of sorts, and watches as Harold nods with a shaky smile and turns to walk back out of the alley. 

His part in this is done for today, and he’s at least a little thankful it hasn’t gone as badly as it had with yesterday’s target. He reenters the bar and heads towards the bathroom, refraining from even glancing in the direction of where Harry had been sitting. It’s just not a complication he can afford. 

His brain isn’t working as well as it usually does, whether from the distraction of the cute guy at the bar or the lack of sleep he isn’t sure. But either way, he makes a mistake.

He quickly opens the bathroom door and shuts it behind him. Finding a lock, he turns it. Convenient. Normally, he has to take his chances and push something in front of it to give him a moment’s notice when he hides the recording of his conversation with the target. 

“Well, didn’t expect you to be this forward, but I’m game.”

“Jesus!” Louis clutches a hand to his chest. There, standing at the urinal, is Harry, his belt buckle and zipper still undone. 

“Nope, still just, Harry, I’m afraid.” Harry makes no move to refasten himself into his jeans and instead takes the opportunity to let his eyes drift up Louis’ body until he meets Louis’ gaze. “Why are you acting surprised to see me? Didn’t you follow me in?”

Louis’ heart beats a hard rhythm against his chest, a warning he fails to heed. “Yes. I did.”

He’s not sure if it’s his brain or his dick making decisions right now, but Harry’s sideways grin at his answer makes him not care too much right now. As Harry moves closer, Louis knows he’s got to take control of this situation immediately. He can’t risk Harry noticing that he’s armed.

He drops to his knees.

Harry’s eyes widen. “Oh. Uh—well, damn. I was gonna kiss you and then um, sorry, sorry I don’t usually do this—I—fuck, you’re pretty—”

Harry’s staring at him like a deer caught in the glare of headlights. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to blow you or not?”

“Um, yes, please.” Louis dutifully reaches for Harry’s jeans. “But wait! Wait! Uh, not here. I live just upstairs. Do you want to come up with me? I guess I’m just not the sex-in-the-bar-bathroom type after all.”

Harry looks so adorably sheepish at this admission that Louis can’t help the tug in his chest. He’s used to making quick decisions, his instincts rarely letting him down. “Yeah, I can come up.”

Harry’s smile grows, lopsided and yet still somehow sexy as fuck. Who is this guy, anyway? He grabs Louis’ hand with a giggle and begins leading him out of the bathroom and through the bar, looking over his shoulder once to wave to the bartender.

He’s not even entirely sure what he’s intending to do in Harry’s apartment, but he quickly strategizes the possible scenarios. As they walk up the stone steps into the apartment building, Harry stumbles. Louis is able to keep him upright though, since he’s still got ahold of his hand. A trickle of apprehension begins to seep through him. He shouldn’t have sex with Harry when he’s drunk. So Plan A to just blow him and leave is out.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, his cheeks darkening. “I’m a little clumsy.”

Harry turns towards a door and begins fumbling with his key. 

“Here, let me.” Louis takes the key and deftly opens it for him. 

“Thanks.” 

Louis hadn’t had any preconceived notions about Harry’s apartment, but what he sees is like looking into someone’s soul. Artwork hangs on the walls, paintings and photographs depicting people and places that look to be personal. Woven rugs lay across the wood floors and overflowing bookcases stand next to a mantle nearly overrun with lanterns. Large windows framed with long red drapes that are spread wide to let in sunlight during the day for the plants on stands before the windows. Everywhere Louis’ eyes land is another bit of something to look at, and curiosity stirs in his heart to know what each bit of it is. 

“Umm…” Louis looks back at Harry who is standing pigeon toed in front of him, embarrassment written across his face. “Do you—I mean—would you like to—”

Louis clears his throat. What he’d like is to bend Harry right over the kitchen table behind him. But instead, he says, “You’ve been drinking though. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I’m not drunk.” Harry’s voice matches the pout on his face. “Liam wouldn’t let me. But um…”

Louis raises an eyebrow, not entirely convinced.

Harry sighs and glances toward the refrigerator. “I could make us something to eat first? Before I—before we—you know…”

“Have sex?”

Harry coughs and shrugs off his coat, placing it on the back of a chair before turning to open the refrigerator. “Um, yes. I brought some things back from the restaurant earlier. I’m a chef. Don’t think I said that yet what with the whole being sad thing and then the sex thing and uh… how about some pork aux champignons?”

Louis can’t help but smile at Harry’s nervous energy. It’s endearing. “Yeah, okay.”

He should just leave. Blow Harry off instead of actually blowing him, but what’s the harm in eating something? His stomach growls at the thought of food. Surprising, given that he rarely feels actual hunger these days. 

It’s not like anyone from Niall’s team will be recovering the recording that quickly anyway. Not that he actually knows when they usually go looking for it. He’s always long gone by then. Instead of thinking any further on this, he watches Harry cook, watches the long lines of his body beneath a flowing floral shirt as he tosses things into a pan. 

“So you’re a chef, huh? Smells good”

“Yeah, at Chez Marcel’s. I’d normally be working right now, but—yeah, my birthday and…”

Harry’s shoulders slump, and Louis remembers why he’s here at all, Harry’s asshole boyfriend who was cheating on him. This is not the beginning of anything. Harry is hurting and looking for a one night stand. Not that he’s in a position to begin anything with someone anyway. He shakes his head of any nonsense. 

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

Harry’s turns away from the pan to look at him. Or maybe _stare_ is a better word for what Harry is doing. He looks like he’s ready to eat Louis rather than the meat sizzling in the pan. “I think the universe sent me a pretty nice gift actually. I thought it was screwing me over, but instead I traded a shitty relationship for the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Pretty sure I’m coming out on top here.”

“You like coming on top then?” Louis raises an eyebrow as he eyes the open neckline of Harry’s shirt, revealing a silver cross necklace dangling from his neck, tattoos peeking out from behind the fabric.

Harry’s sideways smile is back. “Yeah, if I’m riding you, I think I might like that very much.”

Louis’ dick twitches in his pants. Christ. He hasn’t felt this in…a long time. _Desire_. It pumps through him now in a way he can hardly recall ever feeling. Harry turns back to the pan, and Louis lets out a breath. “I think I’d like that, too.”

“I forgot to take your coat. Sorry. Guess I wasn’t thinking about anything but what was underneath it. You can hang it up in the hall closet, if you want.”

“Sure.” As good a time as any to hide his weapon. Fuck, is he really doing this? He stands in front of the closet, hesitating. Somehow, he just can’t make himself leave yet. He hangs up his coat, tucking his holster into the inside lining that comes apart to hide his recording equipment and the money. At least it isn’t obvious at first look, though it weighs far too much to be just a coat. 

Harry’s plating the food at the table when he returns to the kitchen. 

“Wow, Harry. This looks amazing.” He sits down and picks up the fork and knife and takes a bite. “Oh my god. This is delicious.”

“It’s one of our more popular dishes.” Harry smiles, dimples creasing his cheeks. Louis’ not sure he’s ever seen anything more lovely. 

They eat in a comfortable quiet that’s unlike the utter silence in his own apartment. Harry looks at him a lot as though he’s something special to look at, and it’s—nice. It’s been months since he even bothered looking for a quick fuck, but this is not what he’s used to at all. Fancy, home cooked meals isn’t really part of a one night stand for Louis.

When they finish, Harry gathers their dishes into the sink and then turns back to face him, pink staining his cheeks. He runs a hand through the waves of his hair and smiles as he leans against the kitchen counter. “So, um, I don’t usually do things like this? But I—I want to. I really want to.”

“Okay.” Louis stands up slowly, pushing his chair in, deliberately taking his time moving towards Harry. He places his hands on the counter on either side of Harry’s hips, boxing him in. 

Louis leans in, letting his lips brush lightly against Harry’s throat. “What do you want, Harry?”

“I want to forget,” Harry says. His eyes close as he sways towards Louis. “I want you to give me something good to remember this birthday by.”

“Mm. I can try.” He captures Harry’s soft, pink lips with a kiss. One that starts out hesitant, but doesn’t stay that way for long. Harry opens his mouth to him, a gift, one that Louis immediately takes, his tongue finding entrance. He leans his body against Harry’s and lets his palms roam the bare skin of Harry’s back beneath his shirt as Harry’s hands drape over his shoulders. 

Their kisses become a bit more frantic as Harry begins rutting his hips up and against him, but Louis doesn’t break the kiss. He puts just enough distance between them to begin releasing the remaining buttons on Harry’s shirt before pulling it up and over his shoulders, letting it sink to the floor. 

He breaks the kiss then to peruse the inked skin of Harry’s chest and torso. It’s a surprise to see how many tattoos Harry’s hiding beneath his clothes, but not an unpleasant one, no. Quite arousing, in fact. 

He makes a decision then to take his time and discover what else there is to see etched into Harry’s skin. Harry wants something to remember this birthday by, but Louis isn’t just doing this for him, a relative stranger. No, this is for Louis, too, to remember and keep him going when he’s back in the cold emptiness of his life. He’ll take this memory with him of a tattooed boy flushed with desire for him.

Harry’s breath sounds harsh, exhaling as Louis’ deft fingers reach the button and zipper of Harry’s pants, quickly drawing them down his legs along with his boxer briefs to gather around his ankles. 

“Fuck,” Harry moans as Louis takes him in his hand. He’s hard and slick as he slides his palm over him, pressing kisses to his skin as he slowly sinks to his knees. Harry whimpers a bit as Louis takes him into his mouth, and then he’s gasping his name. “Louis, Louis, don’t wanna come like this though. Wanna come with you inside me.”

How can Louis say no to that? He lets his lips pop off of Harry’s cock before standing up to capture Harry’s lips in another searing kiss. 

“ _Mmph_ _mmph_ bedroom,” Harry mumbles against his lips. Harry tries to move but forgets his pants are around his ankles and nearly falls over, caught only by clutching to Louis. He manages to not laugh but can’t quite control the look on his face. “Heyyyy. Don’t laugh.”

“I didn’t. I won’t,” Louis swears. “But maybe take those off before you injure yourself.”

Harry shrugs and pulls his pants and boxers completely off from around his feet until he’s standing nude before him. Harry’s body is a revelation. Defined abs and arms with a narrow waist. Long, lean legs with a hard cock between them. Harry throws him a smirk and pulls him down the hallway towards a door at the end. 

Louis only gets a cursory look at the room before Harry’s pulling at his clothes, frantic to undress him. He helps Harry’s shaky fingers to undo buttons and zippers until he’s as bare as Harry. Harry sits at the edge of the fluffy, white bed and looks his fill. He seems to like what he sees. He’s got that hungry look on his face again. 

Louis knows he’s fit, working on his physical skills as much as he does, but when he catalogues his features in the mirror, he sees more than the hard planes of his muscles. He sees the scars and the lines and bruises. He’s glad Harry makes no mention of them, instead reaching for him, tugging him closer.

His cock is dangerously close to Harry’s mouth now. When Harry licks his lips and looks up at him, Louis draws in a harsh breath at the picture this makes. He can’t help but throw his head back with a groan as soon as Harry plants his hands on his ass and draws his cock into his mouth, but he doesn’t close his eyes for long. He wants to see this, memorize this moment of Harry’s pretty lips around him, drawing him into the wet warmth. 

Harry’s lips release him, and he shoots Louis a coy grin when Louis’ hips jut forward towards him, involuntarily seeking what he’d lost. “Just wanted you to know what I was capable of. Don’t want you coming just yet though. Why don’t you lay down and make yourself comfortable?”

Louis just nods and climbs onto the bed, propping himself into a sitting position with a few pillows to watch Harry’s next move. His eyes follow Harry as he takes lube and a condom out of his side table and drops it on the bed next to him. He doesn’t look away as Harry slicks up his own long fingers and begins teasing himself, sliding them just around the ring of muscles at his hole. 

Harry’s clearly putting on a bit of a show for him, his ass in the air, showing Louis exactly what he’s getting into here. 

“Fuck,” Louis swears as he pumps his own hand over his cock, unable to keep from touching himself at the sight before him. It’s too much for him though, he’s going to come if he keeps this up. Forcing his hands away from himself, he clutches at the bed sheets as Harry’s finger enters himself a few times, sliding in easily, before he turns back around and crawls over Louis’ reclined body. 

Louis keeps his hands on the bed as Harry takes the condom and rolls it onto him. Just the touch of Harry’s fingers has him hissing at the sensation, but then, he notices the tremor of Harry’s fingers and stills long enough for Harry to notice and look up at him. He seems to understand Louis’ hesitation. “I want this. I do. God, Louis, you don’t even know how badly I want this. How badly I want someone to look at me the way you do. And touch me, please—”

Louis doesn’t speak, just runs his hands along the soft skin of Harry’s arms. Not for the first time tonight, he wishes this could all be something more. Harry lunges forward, kissing Louis with such urgency that all Louis can do is hang on. 

And then, he feels the press of Harry’s rim against his cock and gasps against Harry’s lips. Their mouths part, and Harry concentrates on aligning himself over Louis, pressing Louis into him inch by inch, huffing in little breaths until he seats himself fully on Louis’ cock. 

The silver cross dangles around Harry’s neck, jumping in time with Harry’s movements. Harry closes his eyes and clutches the headboard behind Louis, gaining some leverage with their thrusts and managing to hit a spot that has him shuddering and whining and squirming, seemingly unable to control his movements any longer. 

Louis clutches at Harry’s hips, holding him in place and guiding him as he thrusts up into his tightness. “Fuck, Harry, feel so good.”

Harry just makes an incoherent noise, but then his eyes flutter open. They’re captivating to watch. He can see the widening of his pupils, dark rimmed green. And even though it’s all too intimate for a one night stand, which they both know this is, he can’t look away. Although, neither does Harry. 

Louis feels the pressure begin to build within him. He tightens his hold on Harry, pressing his fingers into the softness he finds at Harry’s hips, as he fucks into him harder to the sound of Harry’s choked moans. Sounds like they’re both chasing their orgasms now. 

“Louis! God, Louis!” Harry shouts as he comes against Louis’ belly. The tightening around his cock has Louis grunting as he comes inside Harry, filling him up in a way that feels deeply satisfying to some primal part of his brain. 

Harry whines as Louis slips out of him, and they both slide down to rest on the bed. They’re a mess, Louis knows, but neither of them seem to have the energy to do anything about it. When their panting dies down, Louis sits up, causing Harry’s eyes to dart open.

“Just gonna get us some washcloths. In the bathroom, yeah?”

Harry relaxes back into the bed. “Yeah.” 

Louis slips the condom off himself and heads towards the hallway and bathroom, quickly finding a few washcloths in the cupboard there. He wipes himself clean before bringing one for Harry.

Harry’s almost asleep by the time he re enters the bedroom. He smiles at the way Harry’s sprawled across the bed and climbs between his legs. Harry’s eyes widen at the gesture, and he just watches quietly as Louis gently wipes him clean. 

Harry murmurs a quiet thank you, and Louis finds himself laying down beside him, just looking at how gorgeous this man is and how stupid his ex must be to have cheated on him. He waits until Harry’s breaths even out and then waits for five minutes after that before slipping silently out of bed.

He finds his scattered clothing and quietly dresses, making sure to retrieve his weapon and holster from within his coat and properly place them back on his body. He tells himself that Harry knew the score. He isn’t disappearing on him. This is a one night stand, and Harry will be relieved he’s gone. 

He doesn’t give in to the desire for one last look at Harry. He doesn’t deserve one. He’ll take what’s been offered, but that’s all. He makes sure to lock the door behind him as he leaves and makes his way out onto the street and back into McClellan’s. It’s nearing two am but the bar is bustling with people now, and Liam’s so busy he doesn’t seem to notice Louis’ reappearance without his friend. 

He’s forced to use the stall to hide the recording, which he doesn’t love to do. But it’s waterproof, so it’ll have to do. There are just too many people in and out of the bathroom at this point in the night. Most of the money he’ll hand off to one of Niall’s lackeys at a later time.

He lifts the top of the toilet tank and carefully wedges it into place. He sends a text with his current burner phone with the location and then heads out to the dumpster in the alley to destroy and dispose of it. 

He walks back around to the front of the bar for one last look at Harry’s building when he sees a man stumble up the steps into the building, mumbling to himself, and thinks he catches Harry’s name as one of those words. Before he can stop the impulse, he’s following the man inside. 

When the man stops at Harry’s door and raises a fist to knock, Louis catches the man’s fist in his hand.

“What the fuck?”

“Are you Harry’s ex?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I said, are you Harry’s ex?”

“No, I’m his boyfriend. We aren’t broken up, asshole.” The man pauses. “What did Harry tell you? Did he tell you we broke up? Because he didn’t mean it. He always forgives me.”

“You’ve cheated on him before?” What a fucking douchebag.

“Fuck you. Who even are you?”

“If you ever come back here, I’ll break your nose.” With one swift movement, Louis punches him in the gut. The man doubles over in pain, while also trying to back away from him. “Get out of here.”

“Okay, okay. Please just—don’t hit me again. Won’t come back. Promise.” The man clutches his stomach, nearly unable to walk as he shuffles back down the hall as fast he can.

Louis waits for him to go and then sighs. He turns back to the door of Harry’s apartment and rests his forehead against it. Against his better judgement, he picks the lock and walks back inside. He finds a pen and notepad and jots down a few words, more than he ever intended to leave behind. His life doesn’t allow for a relationship, and he already suspects that’s exactly what he’d want from Harry.

_You are so lovely. Don’t settle for anyone who doesn’t deserve you again._

_—Louis_

  
  


Agent Zayn Malik holds out his hand. “Looking forward to seeing what you can do, Tomlinson.”

Louis nods and shakes his hand. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Yes, well, we’re getting as much out of this as you. We need someone—”

“Disposable?”

“Who will disappear,” Malik finishes. “I’m not asking you to do anything I don’t do myself, you know? I’m just not—”

“Disposable?”

“Able to disappear.”

They share a small smile. 

He leaves the meeting with nothing, everything he needs to know committed to memory. If he lives through this first assignment and impresses them enough, he’ll move on to the one that really matters. The one that will assure a new start far from here. 

His burner goes off as he’s driving towards his apartment, which strikes him as odd seeing as how he’s just spoken to them.

“Hello?”

“How’d the meeting go?”

“Niall?”

“Yeah?”

“How the fuck did you get this number?”

Niall scoffs and doesn’t answer the question. “I hope you’re getting everything you’ve asked for. You know how important this is to them, yeah? I mean this first task isn’t anything to scoff at, but their main objective is a big deal.”

He should never underestimate what Niall is capable of. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Good. You shouldn’t. The group you’re going to be involved with is really fucking dangerous, so just be careful. I mean, it’s not exactly gonna be easy to kill a hit man even if you are a hit man.”

“How the fuck do you know any of this?”

Niall again doesn’t answer the question. “Since this is probably the end for us, I just wanted to say that I hope you get as far away from here as you can. Good luck, Tommo.”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it, but thank you—for everything.”

  
  
  


Louis doesn’t make a habit of getting injured. 

In fact, in the years he’s been in this line of work, he’s only gotten a few cuts and bruises. If the bullet graze on his hand is the worst that’s happened to him, he knows he’s gotten off lucky. 

The gauze and bandages he’s using to cover it need to be changed though, which is why he now finds himself in CVS after target practice in a new facility. He quickly finds what he’s looking for and begins making his way to the cash register. He cuts through an aisle lined with cosmetics, finding Harry directly blocking his way out of the aisle with a shocked look on his face.

“Louis?” 

Fuck. In his head, he realizes how close to Harry’s place he is. “Oh, uh, hi, Harry.” He smooths the hair of his forehead, but then realizes what he’s done and snaps his hand back away from his face. It’s been years since he had a nervous tell. 

“Hi.” Harry looks down at the ground, his face flushed, probably in embarrassment. 

Louis clears his throat. He honestly doesn’t know what to say though. He wishes he could ask for his number or ask him out on a date, but that’s not what this is and he’s not sure that’s even what Harry wants from him anyway. He supposes it’s always awkward to run into a one night stand. 

Maybe if it had been a few months and not just a couple weeks since that night at the bar, they could pretend not to see each other and be on their way. Although subtle doesn’t seem to be Harry’s style.

As Harry glances back up, his eyes catch on Louis’ hand, and his face morphs into a frown. “What happened?” 

“Nothing. Well, nothing major. Just a scrape.” Louis holds up the gauze and wrap he’s buying as if to prove he’s taking care of it. 

“Oh. Good. I’m just checking out this—” Harry looks at the case in front of him. “—nail polish. Um, so how have you been?”

Christ. Harry’s not going to just let him rush out of here. “Okay. You?”

Harry shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. “Okay. Just, um, thought you might still be there when I woke up the next day. You know…after we…”

“Had sex?”

Harry giggles and glances around as if someone might overhear them. “Yes. You’re so blunt.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I could use people in my life who are upfront with me.”

Louis controls his face from cringing. Being upfront is the last thing Louis can be right now. “Yeah, I didn’t know how you’d feel about me staying over. We didn’t really talk about it. Didn’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“You could have left your number on your note,” Harry pushes. “You know I thought maybe you’d come back with it or leave it with Liam or something.”

“Oh. I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Really. I heard what you did to Kyle. He called me wanting his stuff back, but he was afraid to come by the apartment. Said you punched him in the stomach.” Harry grins. “So I do want to say thank you for that.” 

“Well, no problem really. I did tell him to never come back, or I’d break his nose. I guess I should have told him not to call either.”

Harry lets out a loud honk of a laugh. It’s so loud it attracts the attention of a few shoppers who pass by the aisle, which is when Louis recognizes one of the curious shoppers. His instincts take over, and the only thing he can think of to hide his face is to lunge at Harry and spin him in the opposite direction.

And then there’s really no other cover for this that he can think of in the moment besides kissing him. So he does.

He’s sure he’s taken Harry by surprise, but that doesn’t seem to dampen Harry’s enthusiasm for the kiss. In fact, Harry is the one to deepen the kiss with a moan that’s a bit inappropriate for an aisle in CVS. 

Harry seems to realize this. “Come back to my apartment,” he mumbles against Louis’ lips. 

Louis doesn’t answer but takes Harry’s hand as he begins leading him out of the store, abandoning the gauze and bandages on a shelf. He’ll have to stop by after this to buy them. He tries to cautiously look for the man Zayn’s shown him a photograph of as they leave, but he’s nowhere to be seen now. It’s pretty fucking unnerving to see him like this, unexpectedly in the same place as him.

He keeps his eyes peeled for the man in the parking lot, but he seems to either still be in the store or has left. How long did he stand there kissing Harry, anyway? He’d rather Harry not know what his car looks like, so he tries to follow him in hopes he’ll lead him towards his own car instead. 

He doesn’t. 

Harry just looks at him, expectantly. “Do you want to walk to my apartment or are you gonna drive us anytime soon?”

Oh. He supposes it doesn’t matter too much. His guns are safely stowed in a compartment in his trunk anyway. “Uh, right. My car’s over here. Sorry. Got distracted. Just uh, thinking about—”

“My ass?” Harry whispers in a theatrically loud whisper and then laughs loudly behind his hand. “Was trying out being blunt like you.”

Louis just shakes his head. “ _Mmm_. Maybe I was thinking about your pretty cock.”

“Oh god.” Harry voice cracks as he turns three shades of pink. “Um, where’s your car?”

A thrill shoots through him at the thought of having Harry in bed again as he leads Harry to his car. Being forward does generally get him what he wants from men, but he’s a little surprised it works on someone like Harry.

Walking up Harry’s steps in the middle of the day is a bit stranger than it was the first time with the cover of dusk, and there’s a different spark between them this time. The expectations have shifted from a one night stand to whatever it is they’re doing now. 

He already knows the taste of Harry’s mouth and the heat of his skin, the feel of him tightening around him as he came with Louis’ name on his lips.There’s so much more intent now.

Harry must be thinking the same. As soon as they enter the apartment, Harry’s shoving him against the wall and devouring him. His long fingers slide beneath the back of Louis’ shirt and spread wide against his back as Harry presses his body against him. He can already feel the press of Harry’s cock straining at the fabric of his jeans. 

Harry’s fingers sink lower, easily moving under the elastic waistband of his sweatpants until they reach his bare ass and squeeze. Louis makes a muffled sound of approval against Harry’s mouth, unable to speak with Harry’s tongue in his mouth like this. 

Harry finally breaks away from the kiss to murmur against his lips. “Been thinking about this.”

“What—my ass?”

“Among other body parts.”

“Okay, now you just sound like a serial killer, Harry.”

Harry’s breath huffs out against his lips and squeezes again. “Cheeky.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re a lover of puns.”

“Puns are the purest form of humor.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Harry just snorts and pulls Louis away from the wall and towards the couch, settling himself and inviting Louis to join him. He can’t let himself get carried away right now. In the back of his mind, he knows he should be concerned that he’s seen his target in such a random location. Is he being followed? What he needs is to extricate himself from Harry and contact Zayn, but he can’t let Harry be suspicious either.

It’s thin reasoning and he knows it. But he doesn’t stop himself either. He does take control though and parts Harry’s legs as he kneels between them. “Gonna make you come.”

Harry bites his lip and stares, letting Louis slide his jeans down his legs as he clutches the pillows in his fists. Harry looks obscene like this, the bulge of his cock in tight black boxer briefs and his white t-shirt still on with his jeans around his ankles. But Louis needs better access, so off come Harry’s jeans so that he can move between his legs. He licks his lips at the sight.

The first nudge of his nose against Harry has him whining and threading his fingers into Louis’ hair. It doesn’t seem like Harry needs much of a preamble to this, so Louis quickly rids Harry of his boxers and takes him into his mouth to the sound of Harry’s incoherent moans interspersed with Louis’ name. 

He sucks him with intent and pressure in the practiced way of most of his sexual encounters these days. Harry throws his head back against the couch cushions but only for a moment, seeming to make an effort to sit up and watch Louis’ hollowed cheeks as he takes Harry in further and further. 

Wrapping his hand around what doesn’t fit in his mouth, Louis begins a rhythm that has Harry coming undone quickly. He thinks he hears a garbled warning that Harry’s about to come, but he keeps going, wanting to hear Harry’s loud release as he swallows. 

He needs to leave. He knows this. And yet, when Harry’s boneless body motions for him to join him on the couch, he stays. He lets Harry kiss him as long fingers reach beneath his sweatpants to the hardness there. 

“Can taste myself,” Harry murmurs against his lips. 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Louis says in assent as Harry kisses him again. He ruts up into Harry’s fist so that Harry understands that he wants his hand. Probably the quickest way for Louis to come even with the dry friction of Harry’s bare hand. But then his hand is gone from his pants and Louis opens his eyes, not even realizing until then that he’d closed them.

Harry reaches between the cushions for something. And for a heart stopping moment, Louis thinks it’s a weapon, and here he is caught with his pants literally down around his knees. Harry gives him a triumphant smile when he produces a small bottle of lube.

Louis raises an eyebrow.

Harry shrugs. “Been taking things into my own hands lately.”

Before Louis can say another word, Harry’s lips are back on his, his tongue licking into his mouth as his slicked up hand works him up into a crescendo. When he comes, it’s with his arms clinging to Harry’s shoulders, the taste of Harry on his tongue, and Harry’s name on his lips.

Harry lays sprawled against the couch as Louis picks himself up and motions towards the bathroom. Harry probably assumes he’s just cleaning himself up a bit, but he stares into the mirror for a long moment and asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. He splashes some water on his face and wipes it clean. 

There’s no sneaking out into the night this time. 

As if to make sure he doesn’t, when Louis opens the door, it’s to the sight of Harry redressed and standing between him and the door. Harry’s fingers pull at his bottom lip, a nervous gesture that isn’t lost on Louis. “I know you probably have to go.”

“Um, yeah, I kind of do. Work,” he offers by way of an excuse.

“Right.” Harry deflates a little, but there’s nothing Louis can do about it. “I’m not going to ask for your number, but I’m going to give you mine. And you can—call it or not, but at least I’ll know you have it.”

Louis takes the torn page of a journal with Harry’s name and number scrawled across it. He stares at it for a moment and then smiles. He hopes Harry can’t tell how fake it is. “Thanks.”

He steps into Harry’s space and kisses him for what should be the last time. Harry seems to know as much because he takes a hold of Louis’ arms and kisses him as though he might not ever hear from him again. 

When Louis can no longer stand the thought of leaving, he pulls away to do just that. He can’t keep coming here. It’s a risk he can’t take and one that he shouldn’t allow Harry to take especially unknowingly. 

As soon as he’s out on the street, his eyes hooded and careful, he pulls out a burner phone and puts in a call to Zayn. 

“Yeah?”

“Accidentally saw one of the targets today in a CVS.”

“Accidentally? There are never any coincidences in his business, Tomlinson”

Louis wipes a hand over his face as he sits in the car. It occurs to him that he shouldn’t be parked here, so he pulls out into traffic as they talk. “Right. I know. I don’t know if I was spotted or not. But yeah, I’d guess someone had been following me. I’m on the move now. I’ll let you know if I’m being followed still.”

“Call me back.”

He doesn’t allow his mind to race with possibilities as he winds his way through town, taking twists and turns, driving far away from his apartment and then making his way back again through a darkening cityscape. He pays careful attention to his surroundings, making sure he’s not being followed. By the time he arrives at his apartment, the street lamps glow outside. Zayn won’t be worried—yet. He’ll know that Louis would have had to spend some time making sure he’d lost any tail. 

Zayn would be plenty worried if he knew Louis had made such a stupid mistake as to only drive a few blocks after almost certainly being followed into that CVS. Now it’s time to let his mind race as he safely makes it back inside his apartment. 

He can’t afford to fuck this assignment up. It’s the one he’s been waiting for, the one that’s going to get him out of this mess he calls a life. If he doesn’t end up getting killed first that is. 

  
  


Only a few days into laying low and Louis is already feeling cooped up. It’s not like he’s going to lose all his skills by forgoing a couple of workouts and target practice, but he also hadn’t realized how attached he is to his routine. 

Routines can be very dangerous for someone like him. Maybe it really is for the best that he hide out for a while. 

Unfortunately, this gives him far too much time to stare at that floral printed paper with Harry’s phone number on it. Would it be so bad to just talk to him? He throws the paper onto his kitchen table as if it had suddenly caught fire, but he doesn’t throw it away.

Trying to keep his mind off the temptation of contacting Harry, he opens his laptop and tries to find something to stream. It’s only a few minutes of searching before he clicks it closed. He runs a hand over his face with a groan. 

What harm could a text do? Or a phone call?

He’s got one phone that was supposed to be used for an assignment for Niall but that got scuttled after becoming involved at the federal level. After he activates it, he just sits and stares at it a while. Soon, he’ll be gone. He’ll never see Harry again. Why shouldn’t he have a tiny shred of light while he’s still here in this life that’s brought him nothing but darkness? 

He knows he shouldn’t go back to Harry’s apartment though, so he keeps that in mind when he dials the number. The phone rings a few times, and he nearly presses end before Harry can pick up, but then he hears Harry’s voice on the other end and he knows he’s not going to hang up.

“Hi, Harry.”

“Louis? You called!”

Harry couldn’t sound more pleased to hear from him, and Louis finds himself grinning like an idiot. 

“Yeah, um—just wondered how you’d been.”

“Good. Yeah, I’m doing okay. Work’s been keeping me busy and I caught up with Liam at the bar yesterday.”

“Glad to hear that. Not had any trouble from Kyle, have you?”

Harry snorts. “No, I think you scared him off pretty well. Thank god, really. Who knows how desperate I might have been otherwise. Might have taken him back or something.”

Louis frowns. “Don’t sell yourself short, Harry. You’re an amazing person. Never met anyone quite like you before.”

“Anyone as awkward as me before you mean?”

“No. That’s absolutely not what I mean,” he says, a bit more forcefully than he intends. “You’re kind and sweet and you cook delicious food and you look like an angel. Anyone should be happy to be yours.”

“This is quite the speech to be making to me on Valentine’s Day. I hope this doesn’t sound too pathetic, but I’ve been hoping you’d call. Been hoping you might want to come over tonight. Kind of sucks to be alone on Valentine’s Day. Almost as bad as my birthday until you appeared.”

Fuck. It’s Valentine’s Day? He really, really shouldn’t go over to Harry’s no matter what day it is. Before he can stop himself, he’s surprising himself with his words. “Why don’t you come over to my apartment this time?”

“Really?”

He rattles off his address to Harry before he can think better of it. When he presses end, he sits and stares at the wall a moment in horror. What the fuck has he done? And then, a cursory glance around the room has him jumping up from the couch to clean up a bit. 

Harry makes it to his apartment pretty quickly, and Louis opens the door to Harry’s beaming face and arms carrying large shopping bags. “I brought dinner! Well, I brought things to make dinner anyway. Just point me to your kitchen, and I’ll make us a lovely Valentine’s dinner.”

“Oh, uh, yeah—right over here.” He waves Harry towards the kitchen just as Harry ducks in to plant a kiss at the corner of his mouth. He’s not sure what kind of magic Harry’s weaving around him to be so affected by a small kiss like that. It almost makes him feel a bit woozy. 

Harry starts moving around his kitchen as though he belongs there, opening cupboards and finding pans Louis didn’t even know he had. There’s never been this much food in Louis’ kitchen ever. He finds himself just hovering, just watching as Harry whistles a tune as the smells of garlic and onion fill the kitchen.

He puts something in the oven and then starts whisking up chocolate and cream. “You’re making dessert, too?”

Harry turns around and offers him a dimpled grin. “Of course, it’s Valentine’s Day! We have to have chocolate.”

“Right. Of course.” He’s never really celebrated Valentine’s Day as an adult, and it strikes him as so very strange to finally be celebrating it now. 

As they sit down to dinner, Harry glances around the sparseness of his apartment. “How long have you lived here?”

“I’ve actually been here quite a while, about seven years now.” He’s sure Harry must be surprised given the state of his apartment. “I’m a bit of a minimalist.”

“I can tell,” Harry says, an uneasy look on his face. “You must have been a little horrified by all my clutter.”

“No! Not at all!” He says it too quickly, too loudly. “It was perfect. Homey and lived in. I loved it.”

Harry’s cheeks are stained pink at the declaration. “You’re a liar, but thank you.”

Louis finds himself reaching across the table to take one of Harry’s hands in his. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. To be honest, I’m afraid you’re thinking I’m a bit weird for not having much in the way of personal possessions in the house.”

Harry looks at him closely for a few moments as he chews his food. “Where did you live before here?”

The truth slips through his lips before he can stop it. “Washington state.”

Harry sits up; his eyes curious. “Did you live in Seattle or—”

“No, I’m from the eastern part of the state. Very rural, a lot of forest.”

“Oh, that sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to live somewhere like that.”

Louis huffs out a laugh. “Not much use for high end chefs out there in the woods.”

“I suppose not. But I could cook at a diner just as easily.”

“I guess you could do that,” Louis agrees. 

“Does your family still live there?”

He should have seen the question coming, but he didn’t. And so the thought pierces through him as sharp as a well aimed arrow. No one has asked him about his family in years. “No. I—I don’t have anyone.”

The look that passes over Harry’s face isn’t what he’s expecting. He expects pity or more questions, but instead, there’s pain there. “I don’t have anyone either.”

They sit in silence a moment. He feels the hurt that radiates out from Harry, and he wonders if Harry can feel his, too. For the first time, he feels a need to share his past with someone. Not just someone, with Harry, with someone who understands. Instead, he takes a bite of the dish Harry’s prepared for him. “This is delicious, Harry. Thank you.”

Harry’s gives him a small sideways smile. He wishes he could say something that would bring back Harry’s dimples, so he brings back talk about Harry’s job and favorite flavors and recipes. 

He’s just taken a bite of a delicious chocolate tart when his phone buzzes. “Um—excuse me. It’s work.”

Harry nods as Louis grabs the phone out of his pocket and heads into his bedroom. “Yes?”

Zayn answers him. “Is this your idea of laying low?”

“What do you mean? I haven’t left my apartment.”

There’s a snort on the other end of the line. “No, but you’re not alone in there, are you?”

“Are you having me followed?”

“No, just watching your apartment. For your own protection, I might add.”

“What? How—” Louis flings open the drapes in his bedroom as if he might spot someone on the street outside.

“Relax, we’re just using surveillance from the apartment building across the street as well as your own. I’m just calling to remind you that this assignment is high profile.”

“Jesus, I know. There’s nothing to worry about on my end.”

“Tomlinson, I think you might need a reminder that this is a delicate situation. The entire reason you’re on this assignment is because you’re going to disappear after this is all over. Whoever he is—you’re going to have to leave him behind.”

“I know. I know that.” He realizes in this moment that he’s never had someone to leave behind.

“You need to send him home, Louis.” Malik says it more gently than Louis’ ever heard him speak. It almost makes it worse.

“Right. I will. This won’t—it won’t happen again.”

  
  
  


It’s not that he doesn’t keep his promise. He doesn’t see Harry again. He doesn’t leave the apartment. He doesn’t invite Harry over. 

But he also doesn’t get rid of his phone. 

* * *

I’m sorry work interfered with our dinner.

_It’s okay! I had a lovely Valentine’s Day with you! Is it too much to say it was the best Valentine’s Day i’ve had?_

No. It’s not too much. I feel the same way.

* * *

How was work tonight?

_Okay_

Just okay?

_Yeah had a little trouble with one customer is all_

Can I call you?

_Yes_

* * *

“What happened at work?

“Promise not to get mad?”

“Why would I get mad, Harry? What the hell happened?”

“Kyle showed up at work. Sent his food back.” Harry sighs audibly. “When I went out to see what the problem was, it was him.”

“Fuck that guy. I’ll—”

“Do nothing. It wasn’t a big deal, Lou. I’m the head chef, and the owner knows about Kyle. In fact, our manager already talked to him about it. They’ve agreed to tell him to leave if he shows up again.”

He’s still fuming, but honestly what is he going to do about it anyway? He can’t leave his fucking apartment. “I’m glad you have people to watch your back.”

“I’m glad I’ve got you to watch my back.”

Just the way he says it, Louis can almost picture the look on his face. He plays back in his head what Harry’s just said. “Did you call me Lou?”

“Oh. Um—yes? Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I—like it. Never had that nickname before I guess. People have always gone for using my last name for nicknames.”

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to say it again.”

Louis huffs out a laugh. “Okay, Hazza.”

“Hazza,” Harry repeats. “I like it.”

“Good.” He wants to tell Harry how much he likes him. How much he’s beginning to care for him. But that would be ridiculous. At a moment’s notice, he could be gone and never see him again. Why does that thought already hurt so much?

“Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“I really like you.”

Louis’ heart beats in his throat, choking him. “I really like you, too.”

* * *

_Work’s really keeping you busy lately_

Yeah sorry about that

_Do you think you could sneak away just for a little while? I have the night off_

Sorry Hazza I really can’t

_Do they have you chained to your desk? Do I need to come rescue you?_

Something like that. I’m really sorry. I wish I could see you but I can’t get away

_Okay, call me when you can take a short break then_

* * *

“It’s nice to hear your voice again.”

“It’s only been a few days, Hazza.”

“I know, but I just really wish I could see you. Hearing your voice is the next best thing though.”

Harry has no idea how much Louis wishes he could leave this apartment. He feels like he’s fraying at the edges. His contact with Harry is the only thing keeping him from coming completely undone.

“I like hearing your voice, too. Lovely and deep.”

“Mmm. You like it deep then?”

Louis coughs, heat rising in his face. “Yeah, as deep as your voice.”

Harry lets out a peal of laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I guess I’m not the phone sex type. But I seriously do love your voice. All raspy—it’s—you know.”

“No. What?”

“Sexy,” Harry whispers. 

Louis clears his throat. It’s amazing how Harry feels like he’s not the seductive type when everything he does, everything he is, seduces Louis more than anyone he’s ever met. He’s already in too deep. 

* * *

“Hey, Lou. Busy?”

“Um—I can talk for a bit.”

“Why’s your voice sound all—oh.”

“What?”

“Is someone there?” There’s an edge to Harry’s voice he’s never heard. 

“No, I’m working from home. It’s just me.”

“Are you sure? Please don’t lie to me, Louis. We never said we were exclusive. I mean, I’m not seeing anyone else. but—”

“Harry, I’m not seeing someone else,” he interrupts before Harry can get any further along this line of thinking. “I was thinking about you. Without my clothes on.”

“Oh. Well—carry on then.”

He can hear the smile back in Harry’s voice. He pictures his handsome face, dimples creasing his cheeks, his clear green eyes that seem to devour him.

Louis clears his throat. “It’s fine. I can talk now if you want.”

“What if what I want is for you to talk me through taking my own clothes off.”

“Oh—uh, yeah, yes, I can—do that.”

“Well, my fingers are already at the button of my jeans. What would you like me to do?”

Louis groans. “I know what I’d do if I was there, Hazza.”

“Yeah?” Harry whispers. “Tell me.”

* * *

“Hey, Lou.”

“Hi, sorry I couldn’t get back to you yesterday. It’s just that—”

“Work. I know.” Harry says these words so flatly that Louis knows something’s wrong. 

“You okay? You sound kind of—”

“Pathetic?”

“Down.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, bitter to Louis’ ear. “ _Down_. I guess I’m a little down, yeah. See, I met this guy—”

Louis’ heart clenches in his chest. The pain of it nearly takes his breath away. If Harry met someone else, it just makes sense to let him go. Truly, it would be the best thing that could happen for Harry right now.

“—and we had a lot of fun together, and we talk and text and laugh and I’m falling for him. But he’s avoiding me now. And I feel like a pathetic fool. For falling so fast when you aren’t.” Louis tries to say something, but Harry won’t let him. “Maybe I’m just lonely, but it feels like more than that. It’s not enough to go hang out with Liam at the bar or joke around with people at work. I just want to talk to _you_ , Lou.”

“Hazza, you don’t even know how much it’s just you I want to talk to. I know about loneliness. I do. And I’ve lived for a long time with no one, not even work friends or a friendly bartender. And then you burst into my life and I don’t know that I’m handling it well. There’s things you don’t know about me, Hazza.”

“I don’t need to know anything else to know that I want to be with you, Lou.”

Louis sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“It _is_ that simple. You either want to be with me or not. I spent too long chasing someone who didn’t really want me. I won’t do it again.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say to fix this or make it any better. 

“You don’t have to say anything, Louis. I just need you to decide. Please think about it a bit and then—call me, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Bye, Hazza.”

* * *

  
  


It’s nearly the end of February by the time a call wakes him from a restless sleep.

“Got some good news for you, Tomlinson.”

He rubs a hand over his face, still laying down to listen to Agent Malik’s voice. “Yeah?”

“Today’s the day. Get dressed and eat something. I’ll be at your apartment in an hour to go over details.”

He sits up in bed, a hand to his chest. “Got it. I’ll be ready.”

He’s ready and waiting by the time Malik shows up at his apartment. There’s something almost anticlimactic about just one man showing up to instruct you on how to kill an organized crime group’s hit man. 

“Hello, Tomlinson. Nice to see you again.”

Louis leads him inside to the kitchen. “Is it just you then?”

Malik nods as he drops into a seat at Louis’ kitchen table. “It’s for your own protection, Tomlinson. It’s best that as few people as possible know who you are before you become someone else. In fact, I had separate people prepare your documents to avoid anyone else knowing everything.”

Louis looks at the large envelope Malik sets on the table. “Are those it?”

“No. This is just about the assignment. I have some good news about it actually.” Agent Malik slides three large photographs Louis already has memorized out onto the table. “These are the three men you need to be prepared for, and this one—”

Malik slides one of the three photos in front of him. “This is the target.”

“I know all this already.”

“Well, the good news that I mentioned is that you’re meeting him alone.”

He glances up in surprise. “Without protection?”

“Yes. He’ll be on his own. Apparently, it’s a point of pride with him that he doesn’t need anyone else to protect him. He’s convinced his boss that it’s better that he meet with you alone so you don’t have access to anyone else in the event they decide they don’t want you.”

“Hell of an interview process. I suppose if he decides against me, the plan is to kill me.”

“Well—yes. I’m sure that’s their plan. But I don’t think you’re going to need to worry about that. Your reputation precedes you. I don’t think they even have anyone else in mind for the job. In their plan to expand their territory, they’re gonna need more than just one expert assassin. This is our plan to get rid of both of you and set them back a bit.”

“Right. Time to see who’s better at this then, huh?”

Malik stares at him a moment. “If we didn’t think we knew the answer to that, we wouldn’t be doing this. You’re our one chance at this. If you fail, we’re not going to get another one anytime soon. But we’re confident in your abilities.”

Louis isn’t sure how much he really appreciates their vote of confidence in his ability to kill people, but he knows he’s got the upper hand here. The element of surprise is on his side. If something goes wrong, at least he knows his death will be a quick one. Skilled assassins aren’t kidnappers, and they aim to take people out with the least amount of fuss. And every once in a while, they’re apparently sent to interview an additional killer for their organization. 

Agent Malik drives him across town, and he watches the blur of overcast sky rather than the buildings he’s lived amidst for years. In the trunk are the few things he wants to take with him into his new life should he actually make it there. The only thing he’s really leaving behind that’s worth anything is Harry. 

It’s too much to think about right now though. He can’t think about Harry or what could have been because whatever they had, it wasn’t real. Harry didn’t actually know him, and if he had, he probably would have loathed him. Everything is better this way. A clean break for Harry. Soon, he’ll forget the man he had a rebound fling with who disappeared into the grey. 

By the time Agent Malik pulls the car into a parking lot, Louis is focused and ready. They sit in the car in silence until the time reads three fifty-six. He’s got four minutes to walk around the corner and into the appointed building. 

It looks just as Malik said it would. A mostly refurbished lobby with scaffolding still standing where someone’s been tiling a wall. An elevator that he’s not sure is in service. An eerie stillness reminding him that only one other person is in this entire building.

He takes the stairs, making sure that his mind is clear and only focused on his purpose. 

The phone in his hand reads four o’clock. He knocks.

The man who answers is a bit older than Louis had expected. He may have once been lean and fit, but now it’s only his face that remains hardened. Perhaps it makes sense another man like him is needed in the organization. 

“Right on time.”

“Punctuality is pretty important in our line of work,” Louis responds.

The man chuckles. “Fair enough. I’m Jeff. And I suppose you’re Louis.”

Just keeping to first names then. He wonders if Jeff’s been told his last name. Not that it matters. He won’t be using it much longer anyway. 

They move around the mostly empty room as if in a choreographed dance, staying just far enough away from each other that a physical assault would be easy to see coming. He assumes Jeff is armed, but no weapons are visible. He wasn’t told to leave behind his own weapons, so surely Jeff knows he’s also armed. 

There’s a couch with a dust cloth thrown over that Jeff motions towards. “Please have a seat, so we can discuss a few things.”

Jeff takes the hardback chair sat opposite it, bathed in partial light from the large windows.

Louis sits on the edge of the couch. He would have prefered the chair as it would have given him a slight edge in case he needs to jump to his feet. Jeff surely chose the chair for just that reason. 

“We’ve watched what you can do, so there’s no reason to doubt your abilities. However, until you gain a certain level of trust, you’ll be answering to me.” Jeff pauses as though waiting for an answer.

“Fine.”

“After the first assignment is completed, you’ll be paid from a designated pick up site. After that, you’ll get a partial payment before you carry it out. You’ll work alone at first, so nothing too major. If you do good work with not much clean up on our part, you’ll get more back up and more complicated—problems.”

“I’m used to working on my own.”

Jeff’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, we know. Although, we’ve noticed you seem to have contact with someone quite often.”

Louis stiffens, but he doesn’t allow himself to think about the meaning behind this statement. He keeps his mind trained only on Jeff and his movements, ready to handle the situation whatever it may be.

Jeff remains still, just watching him for a reaction. “Interesting. So is he just a fuck then, this Harry Styles person? Because that’s fine. But if we find he’s an agent of some kind, you’ll both be dead before you—”

The corners of his eyes burn as though he’s forgotten to blink and the part of him that relies on his own skill and instinct already has the gun out and pointed at Jeff. He’s already fired before Jeff can even reach for his own weapon. 

They’re both still seated. Louis on the couch, his gun still aimed at the man slumped over in the chair. So much for the plan. Not that it matters; Jeff is dead, which is the only part of the plan that matters. 

He rises from the couch and stands over the body, watching blood trickle from Jeff’s mouth. It was a decent shot considering he’d been sitting down to do it. He isn’t one to keep firing if one shot is enough, but he keeps watch over Jeff’s body, timing himself on his phone until he’s sure enough time has passed that he isn’t still alive.

It’s four seventeen when he pulls open Agent Malik’s car door. 

“Well, that was quick,” Malik says as he begins driving.

“Didn’t feel like waiting for the plan once I was in there.”

“Okay—” Malik drawls as he pulls onto the highway. “So the plan was too drawn out apparently. I’m assuming our target has been taken care of?”

“Yes.”

Agent Malik nods and keeps his eyes on the road as he continues to drive towards the outskirts of town where a safe house must be waiting for him. As the city gives way to skeletal trees and frozen brown patches of grass between the dull white of the snow, some of the adrenaline recedes from his body. 

He closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking back at Agent Malik. He keeps looking a little longer. “You’re different than I expected.”

“How so?”

“Handsomer.” It’s true. Agent Malik might be the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s partial to green eyes and dimples, but there’s no denying how striking Malik is.

Agent Malik laughs. “Works well as part of my cover. People tend to underestimate me because of this face.”

Louis suspects dazzled might be a better word for it, but he doesn’t say that. He tries not to think about how dazzled he is by someone else. 

“You know, that’s always something that surprised me about you,” Malik says. “Why didn’t you use your face the same way I used mine?”

Louis makes a face. “Thought it would be easier to blend in.”

Agent Malik snorts. “You don’t blend in, Louis. You’re very good at what you do to have made it this far with that face. But, you have made it just far enough, it seems. Wish I’d known about you earlier. You would have made an excellent agent.”

Louis shakes his head. “I was never gonna be an agent. I only worked with Niall because I had no other choice.”

The thought enters his head that he’s going to be forced into another path than the one he’s chosen. Malik must sense something because he answers the unasked question hanging in the air between them. “Don’t worry. I’m not backing out of our deal.”

This is it then. His life as Louis Tomlinson has come to an end. Harry will never know what happened to him. It’s unlikely he’ll piece together some random shooting across town with the man he’s known for such a relatively short time. Surely, the feds won’t let this get much attention in the media anyway. It’s not as though Harry’s going to go to great measure to find out what’s happened to him. He’ll just be one in a string of disappointments for Harry.

Agent Malik fills him in on his new identity as Louis Williams and directs him to his new identification and paperwork in the back seat. The car pulls into a wooded drive where the trees draw nearer together as though huddling for warmth. “You’ll stay here for a few days just to make sure there’s a scene being staged back at the crime scene. I have everything in place to send you into the most covert protection. Even I won’t truly know where you’ve gone.”

His phone buzzes as the house comes into view. Not the phone Agent Malik had given him, but the one he hasn’t disposed of yet. It occurs to him how stupid it is to keep it and how very unimpressed Agent Malik is going to be when he sees it. Nevertheless, he pulls it from his pocket and reads the series of text messages on the screen.

He vaguely knows Agent Malik is talking to him about the house and that the car is stopped, but blood rushes in his ears, a roar of panic he’s only felt once before.

_This is going to sound really weird but i think someone is following me?_

_Haha probably just being paranoid nevermind_

_Sorry i texted. I’ve been trying to give you the space you need to come to a decision about us. Didn’t mean to contact you but in the moment i sort of forgot_

One thing keeps him from utter terror: Harry’s still alive. He still has time to save him. Not like his mother. This isn’t going to end up the same way. 

_I can’t explain but i need you to lock yourself in your apartment right now hazza. Please dont ask questions, just don’t leave the apartment under any circumstances._

“Turn the car around.”

“Excuse me?”

“Someone’s following Harry. We’re going there now.”

“Who the fuck is Harry? Fucking hell, Tomlinson.”

“Thought my name was Williams now.”

“Whatever. You said you had no one to leave behind. No one who would be looking for you.”

“I didn’t have anyone at the time, but—maybe there’s someone now.”

“I suppose this is the guy we saw at your apartment.” Agent Malik swears under his breath and throws the car into park before getting out and walking around to the passenger side door. He opens it. “Get in the driver’s seat.”

“What?”

“I’ve got some phone calls to make, _Williams_. You’re driving. And give me an address. Where the fuck are we going?”

Louis can’t concentrate much on Agent Malik’s phone calls. Part of him registers that agents are heading to the address he gave Malik and they’re being advised not to come. Not that it matters, he has to see for himself that Harry’s alive. That’s he’s safe.

“I don’t think he’s gonna pull the car over,” Malik mumbles into the phone. “I’ll see you there—I’m not gonna get in a wreck trying to wrestle the wheel away from him.”

Louis parks in the alley behind McClellan’s bar. He checks the phone and sees that Harry’s read his text but hasn’t sent another. He suspects that isn’t a great sign. He jumps out of the car and begins moving towards Harry’s apartment building staying as close to the buildings as possible, his weapon drawn. Agent Malik pulls his own weapon with a sigh and covers him as they make their way around the building and then inside without incident. 

There are agents already in the lobby, but no one has tried to make contact with Harry yet, apparently waiting for Agent Malik’s go ahead. Louis isn’t going to waste time conferring with them, so he makes his way towards Harry’s door with agents moving silently in his wake. 

Harry never texted him back, so he knows something isn’t right. He can only hope he’s not too late. When he reaches the door, he presses his ear to it just to see if he can hear anything. Relief runs through him, sharp and hot, at the sound of Harry banging pans around in the kitchen. 

But then he hears a voice.

Harry’s talking to someone in the apartment, so he’s not alone. Fuck. 

He can’t really make out what anyone’s saying, but if Harry is cooking, what the fuck is going on here? Maybe this really is a misunderstanding. Maybe Harry wasn’t being followed and just has someone over in his apartment to cook for them. 

Jealousy streaks through him, but only briefly because he knows Harry better than this. Harry would never have someone over romantically when he’s still involved with Louis, and perhaps an even bigger clue, Harry’s made it clear he doesn’t invite people over besides his ex and now Louis. 

Who the fuck is in the apartment?

Only one way to find out. He knocks at the door. It swings open before the agents on either side of him can react beyond pressing themselves against the wall out of sight as long as no one steps into the hallway. 

“Hey, Lou. You’re just in time for dinner. Your friend’s already here.” Harry’s voice betrays nothing. But he and Harry both know he doesn’t have any friends to come to dinner. The agents on either side of the door seem to understand this since out of the corner of his eyes, he can see they all have their weapons drawn.

He walks into the kitchen to find a man he’s only seen in the photographs Agent Malik’s shown him. The man looks him over, a smirk on his lined face, as he eats a bite of pasta. “Nice to see ya, Tomlinson.”

“Impolite to talk with your mouth full, Bardhan,” he replies.

Harry still has his back to them as he sears meat in a pan as though they were just having a guest for dinner. 

“You’re real lucky to have a boyfriend like this who can cook.”

He could already have put a bullet in Bardhan’s head by now, but he doesn’t want to do that in front of Harry if at all possible. It’s beginning to look like a distinct possibility though because he can’t really imagine a scenario that doesn’t end with that happening. 

He can only imagine the tension in the hallway right now with multiple agents ready to burst into the apartment. 

“Know why I’m here, Tomlinson?”

“Thought you came for dinner.”

Bardhan chuckles. “That turned out to be an added bonus. But no, I’m here for a little insurance.”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just stares him down.

“See, if Jeff don’t call by five thirty, well, we gotta problem.” Bardhan taps the phone resting beside his plate. “Looks like it’s five twenty-five. Starting to think something’s gone wrong seeing as you’re here and he ain’t called.”

By the time Bardhan pulls his gun to point in Harry’s direction, Louis hands have already reached Bardhan’s wrist in his dive towards him. The gun discharges a single shot that hits the refrigerator as he breaks Bardhan’s wrist causing the gun to fall out of his hand and skitter across the floor.

As the agents swarm into the room Louis has a gun pressed to Bardhan’s temple.

“Louis, it’s all over, okay?” Agent Malik says, slowly moving towards them. “You don’t need to kill him. We’ve got it from here.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not pulling the gun away until he’s got his hands in handcuffs.”

Agent Malik is next to him in a second doing just that with all other agents pointing their weapons at Bardhan who is still crying out in pain from the broken wrist that’s now in handcuffs. 

It’s not until he’s sure Bardhan is no longer a threat that he allows himself to look at Harry. 

Harry’s mouth hangs open, a hand only halfway to his mouth, frozen in midair. He’s still only turned half towards them. Whatever he was cooking is burning, a thin stream of black smoke acrid in their noses. 

Harry’s frightened eyes find him. He doesn’t have the right to comfort him, but he doesn’t look away. Harry needs him right now as something to focus on rather than the notion that he nearly got shot. 

There’s the not insignificant problem of the blackened mass in the pan in front of Harry though. So Louis quickly turns off the stove and shuts a lid on top of it, hopefully preventing the smoke alarm from going off and alerting the rest of the building to anything odd happening in the apartment. 

When Louis turns back, the door is closing behind the last of the agents as they take Bardhan away. Well, all but one agent anyway. 

“Pack a few bags, Harry. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

Harry just stares at Agent Malik, still frozen beside the stove. Louis’ heart lurches in his chest; for fuck’s sake, Harry doesn’t even know who Agent Malik is.

“What’s gonna happen?” Louis asks.

Agent Malik turns to him. “Your Harry has ten minutes to pack up his life before we need to leave. Make that nine minutes. There are still agents outside the building for our protection, but let’s not push it.”

Now isn’t the time for questions, he knows, so he swallows hard and tries to stay calm for Harry’s sake. He’s not sure what these emotions are roiling through him right now, but he’s not sure he’s ever felt so much panic in his life. “Hazza, I need you to pack up anything you love, anything that can’t be replaced. I’m gonna help you, but I need you to just do it and not think about anything else right now.”

Harry still hasn’t said a word. But he searches Louis’ eyes for a moment and then walks over to the closet and pulls out a suitcase and a few bags.

“Good. You’re doing so well, Hazza. I’m going to grab a few things in this room for you. Why don’t you start in your bedroom?”

Harry dutifully walks towards his bedroom as Louis begins stuffing anything that looks personal in Harry’s living room into a duffle bag. 

“Six minutes,” Agent Malik calls out.

Louis gives him a withering look but continues to pack another bag of Harry’s belongings. 

Harry appears with the suitcase and an empty bag that he begins chucking things in from the closet. Louis knows they don’t have much time left before Malik marches them out the door, but Harry’s ready before Malik says another word. 

“Okay,” Harry says. His eyes still look a bit dazed, but his mouth is set. “I’m ready.”

Louis wants to turn back the clock to before he ever set eyes on Harry and could create this entire mess that has left Harry looking like this with his whole life packed into a few bags. 

“Great.” Agent Malik leads the way out of the apartment with Louis covering them from behind as they herd Harry towards Malik’s car. “Both of you get in the back seat. Just in case.”

Louis knows that to be a precaution in case they need to take cover or hide. But he also cringes at the thought that Harry may not want to be forced in such close proximity with him right now. 

Agent Malik winds his way back toward the highway, taking multiple detours just to be safe all the while Harry stares out the window. Louis doesn’t technically know the plan anymore, but he assumes there’s only one safe place to take them now. 

“Harry?” he says quietly. Harry turns back to him. “We’re being taken to a safe house right now. And then Agent Malik is going to tell us what to do next, okay?”

Harry nods and then reaches for him. The hand that presses into his own is shaking and Louis encloses it with both of his own. “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry doesn’t speak, but in the next second, Louis finds himself with an armful of Harry. Harry’s nose presses into his chest, his arms wrap around Louis’ middle as he just holds him as Harry’s body shakes in his arms. Louis makes soothing noises as he runs his fingers through Harry’s hair and holds him. 

By the time they arrive back at the safe house, Harry’s no longer shaking though he hasn’t moved from Louis’ arms. He disentangles them once Agent Malik parks. The three of them wordlessly grab bags from the car and begin carrying them into the house.

It’s nothing special, but it’s clean and furnished. He turns to Malik who motions for them to sit down. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for us, Harry, but I’m going to let Louis fill you in on most of it. I’ll just tell you that my name is Zayn Malik and I’m a federal agent. This is a safe house that was prepared for Louis, but we’d like you to remain here until we have a plan for you. The man who was in your apartment was a member of an organized crime family.”

“Was?” Harry asks.

“He was killed trying to escape federal custody a few minutes ago.”

Louis snorts, but Harry jolts a bit in his seat.

“This is very serious, Harry. I wish I could give you more time to make decisions, but I’ll be back tomorrow with more of a plan for you. My first thought is that we’ll be able to have a place for you to go and a new identity in about a week. Please be ready tomorrow with some ideas for us as to what you’d like out of a new identity and a new location. You can keep your first name if you’d like, but you must change your last name to something quite different.”

Zayn glances at Louis. “You are scheduled to leave in two days time. We’ve made no location arrangements per your request, but there’s an account for you to access as well as a substantial amount of cash and a few weapons. I’ll bring a rental car tomorrow that you can return to the airport and make your own arrangements at that time.”

“Wait—what do you mean Louis is leaving?”

“Harry, I—”

“You were leaving me?”

“God, Hazza. Yes, but for your own good, your own safety, not because I wanted to leave you. I’m so sorry I’ve fucked everything up and ruined your life—”

“No.”

“What—”

“Unless you tell me that you don’t love me and don’t want to be with me, then I’m coming with you.”

Agent Malik sighs and slumps back in his chair.

“Hazza, you don’t—you don’t know who I really am,” he chokes out. “What I really am.” 

Harry barks out a humorless laugh. “I think I got an idea this afternoon, Lou, when you saved my life.”

“It’s my fault it was in danger to begin with!”

Agent Malik stands up. “I need to get back and deal with all this. Harry, you have until tomorrow to decide. I’ll come back with a plan either way.”

As the door closes behind him, Harry turns to him on the couch. They’re only a few inches apart, but for Louis it feels like miles. Harry, this lovely boy beside him, deserves the world, and Louis has brought him nothing of the sort. 

“Look at me, Lou.” When their eyes meet, he sees how Harry’s glisten, clear and green. “I’m going to say this before you tell me everything and then I’m going to say it again afterwards. I love you, Louis. I think you love me, too. And if you do, we’ll decide what to do—together.”

“‘Course I love you, Hazza. You’re everything to me. I have nothing else, no one else, but you.”

A smile touches Harry’s face as he leans in, pressing his forehead to Louis’. “Then, we’ll start over together.”


	3. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

February 1

Fairbanks, Alaska

“Happy birthday, Harry!”

“Have fun with Louis!”

Harry says goodbye to the rest of the waitstaff at the Aurora Cafe as they wish him birthday greetings and jumps into his SUV. He’s only worked the breakfast shift, so he can spend the rest of the day with Louis and to be perfectly honest, he’s nearly beside himself with excitement.

One of the things he’s learned in his year of living with Louis as his husband is that he’s quite the romantic. He’s sure Louis has planned something special for his birthday even though he’s given him no hints so far.

The tires crunch through the ice covered gravel of their driveway, and his heart swells as he looks out at their small piece of paradise. It’s not what everyone would think of as a fairy tale setting, but that’s what it is for Harry. He lives amidst the trees and open spaces and works with people he can call friends, but mostly it’s because he lives with the man who means everything to him.

“Lou?” he calls out as he steps inside the door, wiping his boots on the mat before tugging them off his feet. He hears Louis’ voice in the kitchen as he hangs his coat in the closet. 

On the kitchen table sits a giant picnic basket like one from a children’s story. He’s literally never seen anyone with a picnic basket like that in real life. Louis stands at the kitchen counter spreading mustard on a sandwich before he sets the knife down to quickly wrap him up in a hug.

“You didn’t wake me up to say goodbye this morning,” Louis says into his neck, and he can feel the rough day’s growth of beard on Louis’ face against his skin. “Wanted to give you a birthday morning gift.”

“I didn’t want to wake you. Thought you should get your rest because I figured there was lots of birthday sex on the agenda for today.” He lets his hand wander down to Louis’ ass. There’s nothing like being able to just give him a squeeze when he wants. 

“Well, you would have gotten a birthday morning blow job if you’d have just woken me up,” Louis says against his lips just before pressing their bodies closer together.

“Damn. Guess I’ll take my gift now then.” He goes in for a kiss.

“No, no. Sorry,” Louis says as he backs away from him, leaving his lips chasing the air. “No time. I’m almost ready here, but you need to pack.”

“We’re going somewhere?”

“Yes. Just pack for warmth and you’ll be fine.”

He rolls his eyes at Louis. “Of course, I’ll pack for warmth. We live in Alaska.”

Louis tries to scoot him out of the kitchen.

He stays put though, eying the picnic basket. “Are we having a picnic outside? In February? In Alaska?”

“If you want your afternoon birthday gift, I need you to get packed now.”

“Is my afternoon birthday gift—” He drops his voice to a whisper. “Your cock?”

He dissolves into giggles as Louis shoves him further out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

“Yes, Hazza. It’s my cock, but you can’t have it until we get where we’re going.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.”

He sticks his tongue out at Louis before walking into their bedroom to pack.

They begin driving north, and Louis claims it won’t take them that long to get to the mystery location, so Harry lets the view pass his eyes in a pleasant blur of white and green. The sky is a clear icy blue today, which he points out to Louis who seems to be very pleased by this.

“This is already the best birthday ever,” he declares, smiling his biggest smile at Louis. Louis glances over at him to smile back. Louis’ smile always takes his breath away. When he isn’t smiling, he looks so handsome and sexy. And then as soon as he smiles, he’s adorable and melting Harry’s heart. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m spending it with you.”

“You spent last year’s birthday with me, too.”

He purses his lips into a pout. “Psssh, you thought I was gonna be a one night stand then.”

Louis reaches out a hand to hold. “Only because I didn’t want to make your life overly complicated.”

“Maybe I like overly complicated.”

“Clearly that ended up being true.”

They pull into a lodge with a large sign that reads Aurora Borealis Lodge, and he finally understands why they’ve headed north and further into the wild. 

“Lou,” he gasps. “I love the Northern Lights!”

“I know,” Louis says, a smug grin on his face. “We have the private chalet over here with a viewing platform to see the lights.”

After he receives his afternoon birthday gift (and his evening one as well), they head out into the cold darkness of an Alaskan winter’s night. Louis carries the picnic basket with champagne and strawberries with him as they settle in on the platform high on a ridge above anything that could obstruct their views. 

The lights shine green and yellow across the deep blue of the night sky. Louis takes his gloves off only to pop the champagne and pour them two flutes of it before putting them back on. 

“To my husband on his birthday,” Louis toasts. “It will always be my favorite day of the year. The day I found you, the day I fell in love with you, the day my luck finally changed.”

He kisses Louis then. He’s glad Louis has stopped talking about not being deserving of his love and now simply just declares his own every chance he gets. He never gets tired of hearing Louis say it, so he asks the question he always asks. “How did you know I was the one for you, Lou?”

“When you know, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fic!
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos and comments! And if you could [reblog this fic post on tumblr](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/190683497156/when-you-know-an-assassin-fic) or [retweet this post on twitter](https://twitter.com/all_was_well_16/status/1225486776208371715?s=20), I would appreciate it so much! <3 <3


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